


Flowers in Your Hair

by tinylittlerobots



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Aerith Week 2021, Artist!Tifa, Cooking, Crushes, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Humour, Love Letters, Meet-Cute, Muses, Romance, Secret Admirer, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29402409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinylittlerobots/pseuds/tinylittlerobots
Summary: Tifa has rediscovered her love for drawing. After finding a beautiful flower garden in Sector 5, strange yet charming things begin to happen. Meanwhile, Aerith spies a goddess lingering in her flower garden. Instead of making friendly with the stranger, she decides to have a little fun.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Flowers in Your Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! This fic is for Aerith Week 2021! Love her so much. This is for Day 8 (Bonus Day): It's a a Date prompt. It's also combined with Day 4: Yellow Flowers prompt. Enjoy!

At first, Tifa thought it was strange. Every week, when she entered this garden oasis, there was something new for her to discover, and it wasn’t just the flowers...

With a sketchbook in hand, and a pencil case dangling from her index and middle fingers, she sat down on a rickety chair. This chair seemed like it belonged in a kitchen, not a garden. It was wooden, with intricate designs carved into it, the stumps worn out from being dragged around so much. This had showed up two weeks ago, with a folded paper that said, _"Please use me to cushion your bum as you work your fingers!"_ Tifa had laughed, pocketing the note.

She laid out her sketchbook on an easel. Yes, it was another 'gift' from whatever Thumbelina entity resided in this place. This easel was stable, it's wood stained with a mixture of paint marks. The note on this one had read, " _if you don't use an easel, you'll break your spine drawing atop your knees :(_ "

Tifa kept this note too. The easel came one week before, the note attached also made her chuckle. Someone was really looking out for her. Instead of thinking it was outright weird, she found another thing to look forward to. 

Smiling, she had wondered that morning what surprise would await her today. It didn't take long for her to find out. Her foot accidentally kicked an object, but it did not fall. Instead it made a metallic scratching sound. Looking down, she realized that beside her right foot was a neon pink watering can. There was that note again, waiting to be opened. 

Excited, she took the note. It read, _"Please water me after you're finished!"_ A big ol' smiley face was etched below it beside a messy green heart. 

Tifa figured that if Thumbelina was blessing her with gifts and free use of her garden oasis then she'd have to return the favour. Even if it was small. 

With the tip of lead touching blank parchment she began a little project. 

* * *

Aerith had created her own brigade of stacked pots and tall plants that shielded her from being seen. She sat behind it, peering through the ferns to catch a glimpse of her. 

_Her,_ was a dark haired girl who arrived at the flower garden every week – Sunday mornings to be exact. Her appearance amongst the flowers reminded Aerith of the fairies in those storybooks Reno used to toss her as a kid. However, this was better than fairies with fluttery wings and sparkly eyes. Dark haired girl had magic that Aerith couldn’t produce or even fully see. It was all hidden in that fairy’s sketchbook, a happy companion with pencils of every colour of the rainbow. 

Atop her balcony, she pretended she was a Turk watching over the girl with the sketchbook. Surely, if she were good, she wouldn't be caught. She'd have to channel Rude or Tseng. Hopefully not Reno (who didn’t seem to care if he was caught or not). 

Aerith had been watching the girl draw for approximately an hour. She didn't pay attention to her grumbling stomach, or her left foot turning numb. She wanted to see the precision in that girls sketching. Her left hand moved with such grace, conducting an orchestra on paper, setting awash the paper with colours that Aerith longed to see. _Note to self_ , she thought, _buy binoculars off one of the kiddies. Moogle boy might have one._

The artist put her pencils down. And 3,2,1 she folded her hands together and stretched out her fingers. Then she began to pull each finger back. Aerith found this amusing. She also knew that this was a signal of her drawing session being done for the day. 

Aerith hoped that perhaps this girl would do her bidding. She'd seen her read her note and smile. So the artist girl will probably comply. After all, no one gets to use Aerith Gainsborough’s garden _for free._

The girl packed her stuff. But she grabbed the obnoxious watering can. 

Aerith almost jumped in glee, almost squealed in delight at such a sight. Goodness, she picked up that watering can so easily. Aerith struggled that morning to even drag it outside. Water had splashed all over Aerith’s boots. But this girl was not only creative, she was strong too! Artist girl could be her Flower girl, 2nd in command.

"Water the flowers, and let them grow, grow, grow," Aerith whispered, hands in excited fists. She was fully aware of the rise in her heartbeat, the steady growth of her fondness towards a girl she barely knew.

* * *

After packing her sketchbook and pencil case into her leather side bag, Tifa picked up the watering can with ease. _Guess it’s time to start my duty._ She approached each bed of flowers, watering them one by one – from the yellow lilies, to the white spider mums that crept along the rocks near the waters. As she did this, she began to reminisce the first time she’d found this place.

The lush greenery and the vibrancy of flowers swallowed her whole. Her own life was so devoid of ethereal nature that she had gotten used to bland dirt grounds and scrap metal turned to shops. The world she entered that day painted her world with a new colour.

Drawing, in itself, was a hobby that beckoned her back in. It all started three months ago when Marlene walked into her bar, whining about a last minute art project. Tifa willfully accepted her request for help. Wielding a pencil, the lead helped her rediscover a childhood talent she’d forgotten. Since then, during the in between moments of Avalanche planning, bartending, upkeep, changing filters, and fighting monsters, she drew. Although at first, her calloused hands and bruised knuckles hurt whenever she picked up a pencil.

Sunday mornings afforded her the break she needed from the busyness of her life. This garden oasis was a dream she was able to live through. From the moment she entered, she knew she had to immortalize the landscape. 

As she finished up, she glanced over at the balcony of the house. She thought she saw shuffling behind the row of leafy plants. This made her realize she’d nearly forgotten her own gift to give. Tifa tore a page from her sketchbook, folding it into an origami heart. After settling the watering can on the chair, she placed the heart atop. 

_You’re welcome,_ she thought.

* * *

A grinning Aerith shut the door close behind her. 

"Oh Aerith were you spying on that girl again?" Her mom had emerged from the other room, a broomstick in hand. "Why don't you talk to her? That's how you'll be able to start a friendship."

"Mom! This is so much fun though," Aerith whined. "Games are so fun to play. You know I can't be playing with kids less than half my age all the time. And you know the people my age aren't interested in me at all." 

Her mother gave her a pitying frown. "Aerith…"

"Don't worry, I'll introduce myself to her soon. When she finishes her masterpiece! Today she watered the flowers! Isn't she awesome? The can wasn't even heavy for her!"

"Aerith.”

"I know.” Aerith avoided her mother’s eyes. She knew that expression quite well, only seen it one other time. _Don’t fool around too much,_ it said. _You might fall._ But so be it, the dark haired girl was the refuge she sought. This girl was reciprocating as well, playing without much of a rulebook. “I’ll be fine mom,” she reassured. Mom shook her head.

Later on, while she tended the flowers, Aerith spotted a paper heart tucked nicely on top of the watering can. “Hm, what’s this?” Unfolding the creases, a singular red dahlia was drawn. Each line was precise, the shadings of red, simply gorgeous. Beneath it was a message:

 _Thank you for helping me. My name is Tifa. I hope to meet you one day._

Aerith hadn’t expected this. Her hands rose to her warm cheeks, a giggle slipped from her mouth. Excitement nabbed her stomach. 

“ _Tifa_ ,” she said aloud, noticing how her own tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth at the first syllable, and how the tips of her teeth touched her bottom lip when she said the second. “What a pretty name.” It was a shame there was no flower named after her.

She held the drawing to her chest, happy to know that the fun had just begun. 

* * *

_One week later_

Tifa’s rinsed off her hands in the sink for the umpteenth time that evening. There were only a couple hours until she switched off with Biggs. She couldn’t wait to make her trek home, and take a much needed shower before falling into a deep slumber. Sunday was tomorrow, which meant freedom from any duties, a time to indulge in self-care drawing.

Wiping her hands on the towel, they dried up fast. With all that vigorous washing, her skin started to flake. Her hands in itself were one of her favourite features. She was a brawler whose closed fists can destroy, as well as a former pianist with her long fingers, and now a practicing artist. Although, she didn’t consider herself an artist…yet. On the side of her left middle finger was a dent, a placeholder for the pencils she treasured. 

Biggs sat down on the empty stool in front of Tifa. He greeted her with a two finger wave.

“You start at eleven, Biggs. It’s only nine.”

“That I know. I wanted to check up on you. How’s the garden drawing going? You haven’t shown any of us your artwork.”

Tifa smiled, pouring a glass of water for Biggs. Setting it down on a coaster, she said, “Not too bad actually. I’m grateful you showed me that place.”

“The kids at Leaf House brought me there first. If it wasn’t for those rugrats I wouldn’t have discovered it. I knew you’d eventually get tired of drawing cocktails and cats. You better thank the kids if you see them running around.”

“Aw, you must miss them!”

“I do. But with Avalanche, we’ll give them a brighter future.” 

“Cheers to that.” They clinked glasses.

“Hey, by the way, have you met her yet?”

“Met who?”

“The girl who owns that garden oasis?”

“No, I haven’t actually.” Tifa explained to him the weird yet helpful gifts she’d been receiving, as well as the time she watered her plants. Biggs burst into laughter.

“Wait, so this girl knows how you look but you have no idea how she looks like?” 

“I mean, I haven’t introduced myself. I feel like it’s a bit awkward now, I should’ve done it when I first went there. Oh, man. Biggs I should’ve asked permission before using her garden.”

“Relax, Tifa. If she didn’t want you there she would’ve already scared you away.”

“I know but –”

“Plus, it seems like you’re having fun. You’ve got a pen pal that gives you stuff and makes you do some work.”

Tifa tapped a finger on her chin. “You’re right about that.” 

“Get out of here.” Biggs already got off his seat and was behind the counter. “Go catch some Z’s before you start overthinking again.”

“Biggs!” 

“I’m serious.” 

After much protest, Biggs successfully kicked Tifa out of her own bar, shoving her past the new customers that were walking through the door. Once Tifa reached Stargazer Heights, she went to her desk, opened up a drawer. She unfolded three of the notes, pressing out the creases. Her eyes traced each letter, each exclamation point. Rereading the notes brought her back to childhood feelings of joy where she had no responsibilities. Days were spent running around with the boys, playing games that lasted until the sun went down.

Biggs was right. Tifa was having fun. 

* * *

Sunday morning came. 

Aerith was busy cooking up a storm in her kitchen. The exhaust was on, her cutting board was haphazardly about to tip over into the garbage can, discarded pieces of vegetables laid out like fallen comrades all over the counters. 

Her brows knitted in concentration, her mouth in a tight frown, forehead sweating profusely. How the hell did her mom do this three times a day? She gave the pan a hesitant shake, wondering if she was doing this whole cooking thing right. She was trying to make baked chicken with grilled vegetables. It seemed like she was doing it right, according to handwritten instructions.

Aerith didn’t want to think about failing. Finding raw chicken that wasn’t a chocobo was expensive. Vegetables were hard to come by, but the kids at Leaf House gave her some in exchange for finding their missing spinning tops. 

_I got this. I got this. I got this!_

She cut through the middle of the chicken, and bam, no pink. Aerith was going to be okay, she looked at the clock. Dark haired girl – actually, _Tifa_ would be arriving in approximately thirty minutes. In haste, Aerith put rice into a bento box, topped it off with the chicken and some green onions. The veggies helped add colour to the side. Looking at her handiwork, she said, “Aw yeah!” 

Closing the lid, she wrapped the bento box in a cute cloth, tying the top in a bow the way her mother did for her. In the fold, she slid in her note.

* * *

Truth be told, Tifa’s artwork was nearing completion. She’d spent three Sundays in the garden, outlining, sketching, and colouring to her heart’s content. When she was able to catch some free time between all her work in Sector 7, she easily picked up her sketchbook and pencils, having always had them tucked nearby. Even if they were at risk of getting booze spilled all over the pages. 

Today felt a little different. She sat down in that kitchen-meant chair, settled her sketchbook on the easel in her usual manner, saw the watering can and did not accidentally kick it. But then she smelt something... it filled up her nostrils pushing away the refreshing scents of pine and floral.

It was food. 

Tifa looked beneath her chair. _Cute._ She grabbed the wrapped up bento box, then took the note to read. “ _Hi Tifa. Thank you for watering my garden and telling me your name! I heard that most artists are starving, but not here! If you’re going to be in my garden oasis, you must eat. You better finish what I cooked, or you’ll feel my wrath! (P.S you’re not allowed to know my name yet.)”_

She couldn’t stop herself from grinning. This flower girl was amusing, very sweet it seemed. As she unwrapped the bento box and opened the lid, Tifa realized that it’d been quite a while since anyone cooked for her. That was her role in her little Avalanche family, she was the person who experimented with food and drink concoctions. They all relied on her when it came to feeding before missions, or during meetings. Except for the rare times Jessie cooked up her mother’s famous pizza.

Taking a bite from the meal made her happy, so happy to know that someone was watching over her like a guardian angel. Tifa didn’t know how to thank the faceless flower girl. 

Their game went on for weeks. Sunday had become both the girls’ favourite day. Aerith learned how to cook other dishes, as she loved watching Tifa eat then sketch. While Tifa, all in all, continued her art, repaying Aerith through watering her plants and giving her notes with various hand drawn flowers. Aerith loved them so much that she decorated her bedroom walls with Tifa’s drawings. Tifa on the other hand, reread the notes at least once a day to feel her heart swell. 

_Hi Tifa! I learned how to cook beef stew. You better like it! I saw a crow the other day, and it reminded me of your hair. I think that means good luck. Crows are a symbol of luck I believe! Not death. Did you know the hyacinths you drew for me the other day means sincerity? I sincerely hope you have a better week and that no one messes with you at the bar! You’re stronger than all the_ There was a big scratch over a short word. _people I know!_

_Thank you Flower Girl. (Can I call you that?)Your food’s pretty tasty, I can’t believe you’re a beginner. Your garden is the most beautiful garden I’ve ever seen. I nearly cried the first time I came here. Have you ever thought about selling flowers? I think they would bring hope to the people in the slums. I feel that the flowers you’ve grown have helped me grow into a happier person. I’m not sure how that works. It must be the way you planted them._

_Tifa, I actually sell flowers on the side. But like I said before, you’re not allowed to find me! Aww, I’m happy you’re happier. I guess I have some secret power within me that makes flowers grow, I’ll tell you one day. Some day… you know what, you can call me by any name you want. Reading your words and seeing how you draw our flowers to be more beautiful than they already are has made me happier as a person too. Enjoy the curry, I cut the potatoes into hearts._

Their messages went like this for some time. Aerith’s penmanship was loopy and big, while Tifa’s was small and very neat. In the mornings when Aerith’s eyes opened to the piercing sunlight, she’d count the drawn flowers on the wall, wondering what it’d be like if she had that many friends growing up. 

How different she’d be. Flowers had always been Aerith’s friends. Every petal that bloomed whispered words of reassurance, kindness. They never hurt her. Even when they wilted, they came back again, never abandoning her. 

Tifa was a flower in human form, one that Aerith did not want to pluck or step on. Aerith admired flowers, but not from afar before. She watered flowers, helped them grow. She kept wondering if there were other ways to give Tifa strength, to help her flourish even more. 

_I want to get to know you more, Tifa._

Then one day, Aerith put a note in the bento requesting a date, signed with her name. 

Tifa never came.

* * *

Tifa was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. On her desk, her sketchbook spread open, pencils sprawled about. The tips were sharpened, ready for usage but like blades abandoned in a battle that never really started, they were useless. 

The sketchbook was opened to the page where flower girls oasis was being preserved. Vivid colours splashed forth from the sheet, a myriad of symbols and meaning. However, there was one spot, right before the draping waters, that was left blank – an empty spot that led Tifa to lose her grasp on inspiration. 

Whenever she held a pencil, edging it towards the parchment, she paused. She’d flip the page, then try to draw something else, anything else. But pieces of her eraser shed all over the page. She hated everything she drew.

She was beginning to feel worse, because she’d left flower girl without a word. It’s been almost one month since she’s seen her oasis.

A knock sounded on her door.

“Tifa, I know you’re in there.”

Biggs. Tifa sat up. “Good morning!”

“Good morning. Aren’t you supposed to be in Sector 5?” He called outside the door.

“I slept in.” 

“That’s not like you. Did something happen?”

 _No, I just can’t draw anymore. All my drawings are awful._ “No, everything’s fine!”

“If you say so. I’ll be heading there today, gonna visit the kids from Leaf House. Might buy Jessie some flowers. Wanna come with?”

_But you don’t even like Jessie that way. And I don’t know if I could show my face there anymore._

“Your friend started selling flowers at the train station there. Do you want me to pass a message to her?”

Tifa clutched her bed sheets, feeling guilty. Flower girl was selling on Sunday mornings now. She must’ve become tired of waiting. Maybe even forgotten about her. “It’s fine. Thanks Biggs.” 

“Look, if you need anything, just let me know, alright? And if you’ve lost something, it’ll come back to you, okay?”

Her open sketchbook held her hostage, she wondered if inspiration would come back to her. She already reached the blankness of a canvas in her mind. How she wished someone could possess her hands to move gracefully across the page again. But what she missed the most were notes, their kind messages, and the writer behind them. 

Biggs soon bid his farewell. Tifa laid back down, arm covering her eyes. She’ll find it somehow, all while coming back to her, the flower girl.

* * *

Aerith had given up on waiting. Glances over her balcony served to be more fruitless. Her faltering hope squashed when the ten a.m hour passed. Eventually, she stopped putting out the chair, and easel. Her cooking was put to a halt. Her mom noticed Aerith’s cheerful disposition had dampened. 

She was tired of waiting. It seemed like she spent her whole life waiting. Waiting for an escape. Waiting for friends. Waiting for a past lover. Now, waiting for Tifa. She should’ve expected this. All flowers die some day. They blossomed beautiful, but once the stem was cut they died quite fast. She pondered what had cut the stem of fondness that was growing between them.

Aerith had crumpled her note, or it would be more appropriate to call it a love letter with a date request. How embarrassing it was, to get rejected once again. Nowadays, she started her Sunday mornings plucking yellow lilies and yellow freesias. Reunions and friendships, she didn’t want to see them in her garden anymore. A bitter reminder.

This morning, not all of the lilies and freesia fit in her basket. The left over ones, she kept by the rocks. Sitting beside the waters, Aerith felt peaceful from it’s soft sound. As she picked up a freesia from it’s long stem, she made a wish. 

“Bring Tifa back to me. Just once.” She said it quietly, closing her eyes. A wavering wind swirled into the atmosphere, rustling leaves and petals. 

Aerith smiled, taking the freesias and lilies. With nimble fingers, she began to intertwine it’s stems, twisting and braiding them together, pulling more flowers to unite until it formed into a crown, flowers sticking about like loose clouds aligning the sky.

She made a second one, knowing exactly why. 

Both the floral crowns took their places on the rocks beside the waters. When the sun beamed, the waters retracted the light, spreading it over the yellow flowers. The flowers were ready to let Aerith go on her way.

* * *

“Flowers! Come get your fresh flowers!” she called out, a sunny grin on her face. Nothing was stopping her from selling these babies. Except, well, passerby who had no interest in flowers. Her basket was half full of lilies and freesias. Her sales pitch had been pretty good. Somehow, her earlier wish gave her the stroke of luck she needed.

At the Sector 5 Undercity train station, people waited, bored out of their minds. For a train that advertised coming every thirty minutes, it never actually came on time. This gave Aerith time to stick her flowers in their faces. Her mother would’ve called her aggressive, however, Aerith had a charm that made anyone stop in their tracks.

She smiled boldly at every potential customer. Until she heard the rolling wheels of the train shudder on the tracks, bells ringing to warn those to fall behind the line. The train rumbled, ready to disrupt chatter into grumbles. 

As it came to halt, the man who was eyeing her flowers went away, and the dispersed crowd flooded the train doors. Aerith hummed, readying her sales pitch in her mind. The crowd parted for the passengers leaving the train. When the doors nearest Aerith slid open, and the first person stepped out, she caught a flash of black. Hand tucking behind a strand of hair, a face written in uncertainty.

Aerith’s grip on her basket loosened. Flowers spilled onto the dirt ground, the basket falling. With a turn of her heel, she ran. 

* * *

_What's wrong with these kids?_ thought Tifa.

They kept blocking Tifa the further she went into the Sector 5 slums. One kid even pulled her side bag. She’d never seen these kids behave like this before, and she was definitely not going to lose her temper over it. 

“Miss, miss, miss! Wanna see my spinning top?” Tifa was beside Leaf House now. She’d seen yellow flowers trampled at the station, basket in tow. She took it as a sign to go follow her heart. Tifa had come this far, there was no stopping her now. Not even an army of kids.

A child Marlene’s age had their arms spread wide, a spinning top gripped in his hand.

She smiled as sweet as she could. “I’m sorry I have to be somewhere, but after I’m done I’ll come back.”

“No fair!”

Then five other kids popped out of nowhere. If Tifa didn’t know better, she’d say these kids were plotting against her. Perhaps, punishing her for not coming to flower girl’s garden recently. Maybe they were trying to protect that flower girl from Tifa’s irresponsibility. 

“Why is your stomach so muscly?”

“Are you one of Biggs’ friends?” 

“You got any games in your bag, miss?”

They continued to barge her with questions, all so random and all at once with a certain rhythm and beat. It could’ve been rehearsed. 

As Tifa gave them a patient response, she tried to move past them. However all the kids formed a chain with their arms, blocking her from passing. 

Okay, now this was getting a bit too much. She sighed, placing her hands on her hips. Using the voice she hated using when scolding Marlene, she said, “What’s _really_ going on here?”

The little girl with the pink cap seemed to crack. “Aer – ”

“She told us to stall you for twenty minutes! In exchange for moogle medals!” 

“Oates!” 

Oates unlinked his arms from the other kids “What! It’s already been twenty minutes! Sorry miss.” The kids followed suit, scratching their heads with sheepish faces. 

Tifa’s seriousness faded, irritation lost in a cyclone of mirth. Laughter came from her mouth. _I’ll be meeting you soon._

* * *

Aerith had rushed over to her garden as soon as she could, her feet carrying her faster than the winds. Panic rose in her chest, coinciding with the excitement that made her temple sweat. _Tifa came back._ She could hardly believe it! Her prayer was answered. 

At the garden shed, Aerith hauled the easel and the chair out from its hibernation. She almost tripped over her own feet as she tried to set it up at Tifa’s usual spot. The easel wasn’t standing up right, Aerith pulled the back leg as far as she could, yet it wobbled like it was going to break. 

_No, no, no._ The kids couldn’t keep up with stalling for so long she knew that!

There were light footsteps coming from afar, tapping on wooden steps. Aerith's eyes widened, ears perking up. At the garden entrance, Tifa was not yet through.

Aerith scurried over to grab the two flower crowns, placing one on her head, holding the other in her hand. A glimpse of black peeked through the corner of her eyes. Blushing, she dived into the longest blades of grass, lilies amongst the wake. 

Tifa made her approach, hesitantly as if the roots from the plants were going to keep her there forever. She sat down on the chair, fiddling with her hands before taking out her sketchbook and placing it open on the easel. 

Aerith covered her mouth, gasping as her gaze drank in the vivacious streams of colour that mimicked the exact landscape before her. Each shade, each flower, each line of grass was immaculate, capturing the ethereal essence of Aerith's garden oasis. She would've cried, if the artwork were complete. A strip of white plagued its beauty. 

Tifa had not continued her art piece. Instead, she sat in silence, staring at the page. When Aerith heard her heavy sigh, her heart broke a little and she finally understood her. Slowly, Aerith crawled through the grass, without being too conspicuous. Tifa did not react in any way, fixated on her unfinished art.

As Aerith came closer and closer, flower crown in hand, her heartbeat heavy in her ears. Mouth drying, tasting wheat. Then she took a leap of faith, or more so a leap out into the air.

The wooden chair clattered onto the stones, Tifa yelped toppling onto a bed of flowers, cushioning her fall. When she looked up, she saw the mystery flower girl for the first time. Eyes, like forests during springtime, glittered with brightness. Her braided hair, adorned by a crown of yellow flowers Tifa grew to love. 

Neither one of them said a word. Tifa’s face burned. They stared at each other transfixed in stillness as the waters continued their stream. Sunlight warming their already heated bodies. 

Aerith’s lips broke into a smile. She bestowed on Tifa’s head the matching crown of lilies and freesias like a fellow queen to another. “Hi Tifa. I’m Aerith,” she spoke. “You actually came! Now you’ve got flowers in your hair.”

Her words brought Tifa away from a trance. “I-I, nice to meet you, Aerith? I’m so sorry.”

“No don’t be! Actually well, maybe you should feel bad.” 

“Ah…”

She giggled, admiring the face below her. “You’re very pretty up close.”

“Thank you…so are you, Aerith.” Tifa trembled under Aerith’s weight as the former pinned her knees against the sides of her waist.

“You’re not getting off the hook so easily, y’know.”

“I can explain.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

“Then what can I do to make it up to you? I can pull out your weeds? Help you sell flowers?”

Aerith pressed a dainty finger to Tifa’s lips. “One date oughta do it.”

Both the girls laughed, their voices echoing through the leaves and petals surrounding them. Two girls, with flower crowns, finally meeting, reunited like long-lost friends from a childhood not shared. The garden oasis: a witness to their union. In the midst of it all, fondness budded, more than ready to blossom into a new form. _Water the flowers, and let them grow, grow grow._

* * *

In time, when several lovely dates passed, the artwork became complete. Where there was once a strip of blankness amidst floral and meadow, a girl stood at the base of the waterfall. Looking over her shoulder, with flowers in her hair, she sought out the viewer for a tranquil moment of fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Also, I made a [ twitter!](https://twitter.com/little_robots) Check me out!


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